


Pie Crust Promises

by Missy



Category: Goldrush: A Real Life Alaskan Adventure
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Reunions, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6525664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madison is positively full of them, as far as Fizzy's concerned.  But might he have turned over a new leaf after all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pie Crust Promises

Ella Fitzgerald had to take a deep, courage-loaded, steadying breath before she stepped down the gangway. If she were to be completely honest, she’d’ve preferred to take a shot of brandy before disembarking, but her mother would have recognized the scent of strong spirits on her breath straightaway and she didn’t wish to tangle with the formidable Mother Fitz this early in the morning. Not when her mother’s pride in her was at an all-time high and she had done so much to bring the family name such glory.

And what a sight Fizzy made: dressed in her finest lace and shades of pink and candy-violet, holding a nosegay of silk roses she’d bought in the last port. Where once she had sailed to Nome in steerage, she was returning to New York in first class, an aristocrat of Alaska, one of the very few successful female sourdoughs in existence. 

And alone except for her dog, but she’d deal with that little fact later.

“Come, Faust,” she gently encouraged the pup who circled her ankles with barely-disguised excitement. His wet nose twitched at the unfamiliar scents surrounding them, and he let out an undignified sneeze, skittering backward on the deck. Fizzy chuckled, bent to retrieve him. “Surely you remember New York?”

Faust seemed to need no further succor than her touch - the dog burrowed closer to her breast and she took her small valise and headed down the gangplank.

Mother Fitz was indeed the first person to meet Fizzy at the threshold, pushing her way through the encroaching crowds, pulling her then into a tearful embrace. “Oh, you look as round and ruddy as an apple!” she scolded, pulling back to pat a wind-blasted cheek.

What a description! The girl nearly withered under that harsh approbation. “It’s not healthy to stay below for months,” pointed out Fizzy, trying to dodge her mother’s hands as she turned up Fizzy’s fancy pointed collar and smoothed down her smart new hat. “And Faust gets up to trouble in close quarters.”

Mother Fitz eyed the dog fondly, but Faust simply panted hot, stagnant dog breath in her direction. She cringed. “So I see. Now, where in the world is that Barry?” Mother Fitz glanced up the gangplank, beyond her daughter’s rounded shoulders, and Fizzy was ashamed. 

“He’s not with me,” she said quietly. 

“Managing the mine?” asked her mother.

“No,” she said. “He chose to go with the China trade. Whiskers is managing the mine in my stead for the winter.” 

Fizzy did not want to discuss why she and Barry were no longer together – why, in fact, she’d stopped wearing the large diamond he’d bought her sometime after the mine had become solvent. It seemed that Barry’s tendency to demand she prove herself extended to every avenue of their lives –the mansion he demanded she build wasn’t big enough and didn’t she know anything about houses, they should have six children even if she didn’t want that many, and why in the world would she want to keep working even though she’d proven herself a perfectly capable lady sourdough and business manager. She saw their whole life forming itself into an endless contest, and she wasn’t interested in spending years proving herself in every arena, worthy as a mother and a woman. It was easier for them to dissolve their partnership, and for him to leave.

“Oh,” Mother Fitz said quietly taking in the unsaid, taking Fizzy’s arm and leading her toward their hired carriage. “I never liked that boy anyway.”

Which was precisely why Fizzy had become engaged to him. She turned toward the window and waited for the carriage to trot off in the direction of home. 

She left her silk roses in the cab and remembered them far too late to rescue them.

________________________________________________

Two weeks later a heavy snow pelted New York City, and Fizzy was grateful for the distraction. Reminded of Alaska, and relieved to spend a day that didn’t involve calling around, teas, dances or socials, she swaddled herself in quilts in the parlor and had fresh popcorn as her mother tended to correspondence in the sitting room. Her sister was first to the door when the bell rang, and the pleasant, familiar laughter that floated to Fizzy through the distance.

A series of footsteps up to the door forced her to sit up and set the popcorn aside. “Fizzy? You have a caller.” Her sister’s tone of voice, and the familiar-sounding laughter coming from the parlor, served to combine and immediately put Fizzy on edge. She was not surprised when a dark head bobbed around the corner, a familiar smile and a dark head of hair and an arrangement of flowers.

“Fizzy,” said Madison, offering her his hand.

She gave him a wry look. “Shouldn’t you be off drilling for oil?”

“I have people to do that for me,” he said, and his tone suggested he was joking. She could only shake her head at him. “How have you been? My schedule’s been all topsy-turvy, otherwise I would’ve called right away.”

She didn’t need to remark upon his tardiness; she’d last seen him at her engagement dinner to Barry, where he’d witnessed their arguments and discomfort with a smirk. “I didn’t expect you. I really did think you were in Alaska still.” 

“May I sit?” he asked. She sighed and made room on the duvet. “I admit walking the city streets in a storm isn’t quite as difficult as the hike from Nome, but my feet still feel like they’ve marched from here to Hades.” He smiled brightly. “I hope you’ve had time to walk about before the snow set in.”

“My mother prefers to send me escorted everywhere,” she said. And to ignore Fizzy’s own wishes, though the miner was brutally aware of the fact that money isn’t much of a shelter against gossip in light of her broken engagement with Barry. “Madison, I presume this isn’t a social call.”

“Any time spent with you is a joy,” he said noncommittally. “But I do have an offer on me…”

“No.”

“Not even going to listen to my argument? That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“You made me pie crust promises, Madison,” Fizzy said. “I will not allow myself to be used again.”

“Well, there is something that pie crusts do,” Madison said, quite grandly. “If you give them enough time, they brown up into something worthwhile.” He reached into the breast of his jacket and pulled out a ream of paper. “I think this just might convince you, Fizzy, that my deeds have improved on my words.”

His words were ridiculous, but Fizzy took the documents from his hand. They were stocks; bills of payment. A quick glance told her that he had managed to get himself out of arrears with the last company and had managed to successfully pay off his men without overextending. “How…refreshing.”

“What can I say? You’re an inspiration,” he smiled. “And after I struck it rich with logging and wildcatting I thought I sort of owed the world a bit of payback.”

“Always the charmer, Madison.”

“Always,” he agreed readily enough. “Which is why I was wondering if you’d join me in a little venture? Before you ask, I don’t need a single cent of your money – just your good name.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need me at all if you’ve got the financing arranged?”

“Because,” said Madison, pulling a bill of sales from his wallet, “I doubt may fine ladies would attend the P.T. Madison School of Typing. The Ella Fitzgerald Academy, however…”

“And how do I know you have the money and resources to run a school?” she wondered.

“Well,” he said, “I’ve always owned the building - lovely place near the center of town – and I’ve lined up several women of integrity and quick fingers to teach. The paper, typewriters and textbooks I still have from other, less well-planned ventures. The entire affair will be a non-profit venture that will give impoverished women a chance to live. So therefore all I really need nothing from you but your endorsement.”

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And you’ll need nothing more than my name?”

“Yes,” he said.

Fizzy tucked aside her popcorn and sat up. “Madison, I would be honored to consider your proposal – that is, if you’d stay for dinner.”

He smiled and held out his elbow. “I would be honored, Miss.”

Madison was, Fizzy realized suddenly, far more charming when he owed you nothing in return. As they drifted toward the dining room, she prepared to guard herself and her name against any damage he might do it but by the end of the night she was willing to put her trust in him.

For the moment.


End file.
